Page 70 of All Your Pucking Secrets

Tyler didn’t pick me up tonight because he didn’t want to. Not because he was too nervous. Maybe he never intended to take me to prom in the first place. I don’t know. All I know is that he’s lip-locked with someone else and doesn’t seem to care if I see.

Perhaps he even relishes it.

As I watch, something cracks inside me. I can’t stay for this.

I look around frantically, hoping to find an easy escape, but Rochelle and a couple of her friends are now between me and the door. They aren’t paying me any attention—why would they when no one knows Tyler and I are together? They don’t understand that a betrayal is playing out right in front of them.

I glance back at Tyler, as if, somehow, I might discover that the past two minutes have been a trick of my mind, but he’s still with Whitney. They’ve stopped kissing, but he’s talking to her quietly.

Intimately.

Raising my chin high, I turn and push past Rochelle, ignoring her cry of protest. I walk faster and faster, and by the time I’m outside, I’m running.

“Miss Dean?” The teacher at the door calls after me, but I ignore her.

My heart is breaking, and no one knows it but me.

TYLER

Just as I reach into my school locker to find the books I need for my next two classes, an achingly familiar voice calls my name.

“Tyler!”

I close my eyes, bile rising up the back of my throat. My stomach is knotted, and I’ve barely been able to eat all weekend, yet I still feel like throwing up.

Forcing a cocky smirk to my lips, I turn toward Echo.

“What’s she want?” Lee, one of my hockey teammates, asks.

“Dude, it’s the charity case,” another of them says loudly enough for Echo to hear.

She flushes, but her eyes shine with determination as she comes to a halt in front of me. I cringe on her behalf, knowing how much she hates being called that, and her sharp gaze tracks the movement.

Damn. I can’t afford for her to think I’m soft on her. I need her to hate me, or she’ll ask too many questions. I thought I’d accomplished that with my display with Whitney, but maybe Echo is an even better person that I gave her credit for.

I have to admit, if the shoe had been on the other foot, and I’d seen her kissing someone else, either their face would have been smashed in or I’d have already had a revenge hookup.

My gut sours. I don’t think Echo is the kind of person who would fuck someone for revenge, but she didn’t believe I’d ever betray her and look where we are. I wouldn’t blame her if she spent the rest of the weekend with someone else, even if the thought of it makes me want to cry for the first time in fucking years.

Echo tips her chin back. God, she’s incredible. She’s like a medieval warrior woman striding into battle. Fearless and utterly captivating.

“Why did you stand me up for prom?” she asks.

To anyone else, her voice might sound level, but I know her well enough to see through her facade. This confrontation is taking a lot out of her.

My insides crawl. I’m not good enough for her in any way, shape, or form. Not after what I’ve done. And honestly, not before then either. It’s just that now, she finally sees the truth.

“I was never going to go to prom with you,” I tell her flatly.

Beside me, Lee snorts with laughter. Several bystanders have stopped to watch. I silently beg Echo to drop the subject. To turn around and walk away before I’m forced to do something else unforgivable.

Leave, baby girl. Walk away. You deserve better.

But she stays.

She inhales deeply, her face a mask of calm, even though she’s surely simmering with hurt and rage.

“Yes, you were,” she says. “We had plans, and then you broke them and went with Whitney instead. Why?”

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